It's on. All of the experience acquired at times of war. All of the pain. Experience acquired while reminiscing of combat, "I could have done this." "I should have done that." It's taking me out. Be sharp, Ismael. This is how you survive your missions, you're clinically insane. You have to think "I'm dying on this, no escape."
And just like that, I'm back on the hill. "Take it easy. One step at a time. Like we used to."
Snatched by the ill thoughts in my head. Ismael's rifle has a hidden spot on the right. You click it and it opens, a pack of powder falls and he opens it and sniffs the entire thing raw.
The voices stop, I thought they would intensify. I can think, I can smell him. Underground like the creature he is.
An explosion bursts out a few buildings on the horizon, and he knows it's getting closer. It's coming for him. Takes a stance and blocks the weapon on his chest to use the right hand as a signal. "Forward." And all the soldiers follow as such, ready to save up as many ammos as possible. Each bullet a rebel. Under the actual fire assault, recon goes dark, no dialogue can cover the battle sounds. You experiment in real time with human wrath. You discover new emotions, an alternate one, more violent and real.
Yet their gaze center into Ismael, each step he takes guides them towards victory, they follow silent orders, body language speaks volumes in times of chaos. Especially when said-body is calm and composed. Even under drugs, Ismael does not lose control. Red, bloodshot eyes, no second lost. Killcount goes up as rebels go down, they go down impressively fast as if they were bowing down to their new elected king.
In death they serve.
Inside his lair, end of time shelter, the man uses what's left of himself to drag his lifeless body to a gun and points it at the door and waits.
Away in the heart of the capital of Renegald, Ismael provokes eventual hiding foes and gets nothing but a wave. A tsunami of citizens fleeing the local area due to a visible released-in-the-air compound.
Retreats his weapon down, and as Ismael focuses on his unstable surrounding, a gun goes to the back of his head. "It's just how we used to do it. We play hide and seek and I come up with the most asanine plan. Either way I win. Even in death."
Gloria, who went back to the battlefield, followed through the already-dug up tunnel, only to stumble upon a different man in the lair. She realizes. "Mateni went in, out, and dug a perpendicular segment to crawl back out to the surface. He got us! Ismael!"
The man, heavily crippled, shoots, and misses, Gloria dives in and ends his life in one direct shot to the brain. She looks around, confused. Bunch of documents on the desk and a panel control.
"It's all about finding a gas that shifts the will from human to subhuman."
She opens the door and takes cover behind it on the same movement. A grenade enters first, as Gloria sets herself between the door and the shelf on the left, sweating in that tight space. After the blast she remains quiet and kicks the door unto the enemy, uncovers herself and refrains from pressing the trigger.
"Alexandra?"
"You actually went."
"You're supposed to stay at the congress. Why here, why now?"
"War dumbs you down, I guess. Come back now. You have no idea, the paperwork, the convincing..."
"I, did the convincing. You agreed. That's what you do best."
"We've killed a lot of people, me, you, Ismael. Twenty-four hours, remember?"
Gloria pulls the trigger on her face, and watching her limp body on the cold, hard ground, utters those words: "Reset the clock, then. This is why I hate bureaucrates. Hiding behind a desk, complaining about "paperwork." Shameful behaviour. You mention war yet you know nothing of it. If you think this killing mission is anywhere close to an active war zone you are out of your mind. And judging by the state of your skull I'd say you are."
After the storm broke out, Gloria took a breath of fresh air, and thought. "When you're done, breathe in, breathe out, drop your weapon and count to five."
And so there she was, the lonely female soldier, after the war, smiling while staring at the ground. No thoughts. No new ideas. Of all people on this planet, she was the only human to be able to remarkably empty their own mind so fast. An actual mastery. Her gaze rises to the old western-style pub in front of her. And she can smell it. The hard scent of her man.
Inside, pointing a desert eagle at Ismael, Mateni, the real one, starts rambling.
"So this is checkmate, isn't it? I can't be the only one finding this poetic, right?"
"You've let yourself crumble to pieces for a meetup? You should have called."
"Very funny, Ismael. But that's what it takes to bring you down. I was the most prolific in combat theories but when it came down to actual fighting you always found a way to win. I was divided between rage and admiration. Beholding the source of my hatred."
"They say never meet your heroes."
"You're here to kill me. The next one is Basil. Trust me, if I'm going down, nobody can hold up to you until the Chef."
"Mateo. This is no longer child's play. We're not in recess anymore. We've lost ourselves since the Nara war. I get you're trying to do something about your trauma. So am I. Honestly I can't shoot without a pack. I dope myself up to forget the face of my victims. It's a tough world for veterans. I owe you one for this sudden play date. You don't deserve to end like this. Not in front of me. We grew up together, old man."
"I didn't hear the bell, Ismael. I'm still playing. I can see Genova alienated at the sun, Basil giving Raven and me some insane orders. See, you're chuckling. So look at it. Look at us. We're still playing in recess. We are, what, eight? Maybe eleven? Everybody's gone. Both the students and the teachers are long gone. We can play, now. We're free."
"It's all gone, Matt. You played too much and for too long. You ended up actually following the orders of Basil."
"Hey, Ismael."
"Yeah?"
"I'm terrified."
"I know. Let me take the gun. It's going to be okay, old friend. Breathe in, breathe out. Let it all out. You got maybe ten seconds. Tell me one more thing."
"Raven. Do you think she liked me back?"
"Dude yeah! You guys were always together. I'll tell her when I see her. Now close your eyes and see yourself at recess. We're playing. We're just kids. We don't know any better. None of this is your fault. Look, Gloria's here."
"It was nice meeting you again, Matt."
"Guys I don't...I don't wanna be a veteran at twenty years old."
Mateni collapsed on the table, empty, dehydrated after crying so much. The two friends palmed their hands around his head, eventually joining them.
"It's just a matter of time, before I join you. Keep playing in the afterlife. Love you, old friend. Keep playing with Raven. We're all here. Gang's all back up."
Solemnly, they grabbed the disembodied carcass of their friend and buried him with dignity and respect. Under the heavy rain and the gongs of the local church, they saluted him. After a few seconds, Gloria looks at him.
"You don't have to tell me twice."
Ismael takes his two fingers up and one knee down, and touches the grave. In an instant, a burning painless fire sends him back.
"Man it's a cruel world."